As long as I have life to use, I'll not decry my every bruise, I'll not keep track of every crack, Or rave about my every scratch, I'll not pretend each day is winter, Bemoaning over every splinter.
For all the lives that have been spent, Acquired a fair amount of dents, And not a life I've seen thus far, Had fewer than a hundred scars, And I have yet to meet a soul, Who had a heart that was still whole.
I may be chipped, or scuffed, or battered, Weathered, or scored, or torn, or tattered, But 'til from sleep I can't be woken, I'll not accept that I am broken.
If I’ve a lung that is still breathing, And half a heart that is still beating, I bid my lips these words be spoken, "'Til I am dead I'll not be broken".
I am from the suburbs of Portland, Oregon, where I live with my family and work in Information Technology. My hobbies are music, fitness, and travel.
Writing feels like the most important and serious thing I’ve ever done in my life. To call it a hobby seems terribly understated. I’ve spent most of my journey as a writer trying to quit, but I now accept it is inescapable. I do it as often and with as much excellence as I possibly can. Write mostly fantasy fiction but have taken a deep dive into poetry most recently.
Have nothing published, but that is the direction I am headed.
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